


Dawn's Knowing

by baby_worm



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I wrote the word flesh too many times, Literally nothing is happening, Nap Time, Poetry, Reader has breasts, The Force kinda, Visions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:13:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25641865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baby_worm/pseuds/baby_worm
Summary: Vibing in bed with Kylo, send tweet.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You
Comments: 8
Kudos: 25





	Dawn's Knowing

It was just before dawn when your eyes fluttered open in stuttering beats, blinking away the soft drift of dream-state. Dim twilight eased your sight as you searched your peripheral for familiarity. You watched as curtains rolled in unmeasured waves at the breath beyond the expansive surrounding viewports. There was a simultaneous spark of ease and delight as your gaze landed on the man beside you.

The soft wind of his breath rhythmically unsettled stringy black hair that lingered limp across his face. It was with ease that you watched the sky, through veils, slowly birth the gentle light of dawn; Its evidence washing over chiseled contours. Fans of dark lashes shuffled with the twitch of his eyelids as eyes swept behind them, apparently without pattern. Light continued to trickle in, permitting you to ogle past his sleeping face. Body laid in a shameless splay, captured in a languid waltz of sleep. One calf an isle in the sea of strewn linens. Arms evidently must have once been outstretched in a desperate reach for you.

Your lips tingled with the effort to quirk up slightly at the thought. Regardless of the nights you had come to share often, you couldn’t help but bask in the egotistical honor of being wanted by him. It rubbed raw at the splinter of hope, making your heart swell, filling your mind with a swarming buzz of what you’d hoped were not spineless suspicions.

_Perhaps he does crave you_

_beyond the dimension of his expression_

_That need found rolling_

_a thunder in his belly_

_at the absence of you._

_Perhaps his fingertips_

_do ache_

_for your flesh, lush_

_an assuage to his hunger._

_Perhaps his body cries out_

_for the belt of your arms_

_to enfold him_

_brace him._

_For the assurance in the strength of your grasp_

_the warmth of your embrace_

_the weight of your head against his sternum._

_Resonating in the spongy corridors of his bones._

_Pillars to his nerve._

_The staccato dance of your stare_

_when you’re face to face._

_The sweet perfume of your breath_

_an earthy, herbal oil_

_to soothe the mangled wound of his yearning._

_Curandería._

_And perhaps he heaves a shuddering sigh_

_at the thought of your caress_

_atrevida dulzura_

_which mauls his every doubt._

_Your tongue against his_

_in a wet spar, triumph lost_

_in the fog of one another’s breath_

_your teeth_

_drawing his earlobe behind your lips_

_igniting sparks in his blood_

_clogging his arteries with the very infatuation_

_that suffocates him_

_contradicts him_

_and obliges his lungs for oxygen._

_Perhaps his heaving was a stronger effort to_

_mask himself than you previously presumed._

_Perhaps the euphoria was almost too much_

_your supreme touch_

_somehow capable of undoing_

_mighty Kylo Ren._

Without the cost of his person, his fire, it would almost seem as a mere man laid beside you instead of the enigma you thought him to be. Knowing him was an expense, and at the moment, a high reward.

A classified animation of his spirit was lit in the realm before your mind’s eye. A shadow sketched a first formless entity. Bending and stretching to form crevices, tendrils, the mass moved in fluid manipulation like water and dough and mucus and mud. The synchronous effort of his power, his passion, and his suffering manifested, pouring in streams rich with color, flowing over the extremities of his form and gleaming under aimless light. A celestial, pulsing beacon of being. A wave of blood came over it as it was pierced with dense bones. A second wave of blood washed it as organs prepared themselves, tucked into the confines of their designation. It was then that intricate masses of Herculean muscle padded over, twitching and writhing as threads of tendons pulled tight in the heavy, compounded flesh. Now all, neatly wrapped in both soft and callused, dotted skin, decorated in woven black thread; A divine gift.

Your heart palpitated in awe of your vision. This same glorious man who rule and slay in power and in spirit rendered vulnerable, disposed of consciousness, disposed of worry, left bare with the intrinsic devotion to your presence, your touch.

You returned your focus to the curved ceiling, illuminated in the weak glow of first light as your consciousness smoothed your thoughts into fine, filed points. A yawn escaped you, straining the skin at the corners of your mouth. You surrendered to it after a moment, arching your back and reveling in the gratifying pull at your joints as your limbs went taught in a graceless stretch.

Your exhale released unsteadily as you readjusted your pillow, tucking it under your neck. Your gentle commotion only disrupted Kylo for a moment as he furrowed his brows and swallowed, before relaxing again, face falling delicately slack jawed.

The sheets beneath you creased as you gingerly wriggled closer, hand raised to brush the rosy petals of his parted lips. The ridges of your fingertips caught on the stubble peppered along his cupid’s bow, and his face twitched around his nose awkwardly. Entranced in the movement of his face, not unlike the quivering whiskers of a cat, you pet his upper lip again. His nose crinkled and his eyelids gave to a vertical roll as black lashes revealed rich brown eyes, gradient with honey.

His pupils expanded and contracted as you came into focus, staring back at him with gentle, bright eyes, lips tugged in a sideways smile at your mischievous kidding. He raised an eyebrow, only implying the smile he hid. He hummed and wrapped an arm around your waist. You let him drag you close as he crouched his knees in a spoon and pulled your legs to rest over the backs of his thighs. Your lips absentmindedly parted with a breath as he adjusted further, guiding your shoulders to lay flat so he could nuzzle his nose behind your ear.

Your arm tucked itself under his neck, drawing warm tracks over the creases of his shoulder blades as your eyes swung closed.

Sleep once again encompassed you in timeless waves. The only evidence of time passing being the periodic contrast of light shifting and stretching across the suite. There were some moments when your consciousness would return, to a warm hand stroking the soft skin of your side, following the winding curve over your hip to your knee. Sometimes there were feather-light brushes of his lips against your ear, plush skin and teeth nipping down the shell. Sometimes there were fingertips studying the marks and spots of your arms and chest, over the soft divot of your chin and along the zygomatic curve of your cheek.

This time, you awoke to closed lips leaning against the line of your throat and felt the hot cycle of breath with it. As you blinked away your exhaustion once more with a sigh, Kylo lifted his face to rest his admiration upon you, his eyes a vacuum, less guarded than you could recall before. You start to hear the staticky hum of the Force he wields as he brushed against your mind. But your eyes catch the pink impression of the pleats of his pillowcase, so you disregarded his glare, deeming whatever he might be thinking too sober of an inquiry this soon, post-waking.

You couldn’t help the smile that spreads across your lips. You hoped it was assuring but perhaps it was knowing, intimidating, as Kylo’s brows curved inward in sleep-dusted confusion. You raised a hand to his face, letting your thumb wipe back and forth over the velcro of stubble below his cheekbone as you tilted your chin up, imploring he uncharacteristically indulge you in a good morning kiss. Kylo leaned over you, nudging his nose beside yours, lips barely skimming yours as he whispers almost breathlessly, consonants punctuated by the pop of his tongue against his soft palette.

“Muñeca.”

His lips meshed against your own, lazily pulling at your bottom lip before minding your cupids bow with his tongue. A hand came up to brush a knuckle under your jaw before tracking his palm down over your breast and landing on your waist. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you shifted your legs to tangle with his.

“Supremo.” Your tongue swiped under his bottom lip, flashing a sharp look and a daring, shameless smile. “Ven.”

He urged you closer, hands clutching your side. Your hand grasped his wrist adamantly, prompting him to heed your expression.

“ _Ven._ I want to hold you.”

He sighed, but contrary to his manner, he moved with fresh haste to lay between your legs. The pliable flesh of your thighs chafed against his torso as he slunk down, slotting against you; You pulled your legs around him, and an ankle settled in the crease of his haunches. His hands fanned over the unclad flesh of your hips and his thumbs found solace as they were swallowed by the crevices at the tops of your thighs. You slid your hands up his back, letting one glide further into the humid thatch of hair, and scratch at his scalp. As you looked down to admire the man who weighed you, you recalled your gift of sight, and you felt your heart thump against his cheek. The nucleus of this warrior, carved of flesh and bone, had unveiled a fraction it’s essence. A callused and needing existence, feeding on the nourishing sentiment of your embrace, and bathing in it, an ocean of endearing liquid starlight. You allowed yourself a gulp of air as the burden of his weight aided the flood of air from your lungs. The vibration of an inaudible chuckle tickled you as Kylo tensed, readying to readapt his weight, but you braced your palms over him, not willing to ease yourself of the heavy duvet of his body.

You wondered where this facet surfaced throughout his days. What was raw and untouched by conditioning that had shown through the thick shield of his grief? You heard the drowning hiss of the Force again, resonating between the mass of your inner ears. You knew he would come to know what you saw, his mind’s eye was infamously strengthened by arms of the Force. So, you watched his lashes splay flat over his brow bone as he looked up at you, curling pleats of elastic skin beneath his cheekbone.

“What do you see, pet?”

“Your brilliance, divino.” Your earnest reply made his pupils fluctuate, and forced a twitch from his eyelid. The vibration dissipated.

He hummed as he propped himself onto his elbows, clasping his hands at your ribs, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts. “Though the Force is seductive,” he lifted your wrist to his mouth, awarding it a tender open-mouthed kiss, “it is trusting.”

The life of his words alerted your spirit, evoking a neon glow in your extremities, a heat in your face, and goosebumps across your flesh. Kylo’s teeth pinched the skin around the tendon that protrudes from your wrist; Your mind was drawn from your revelation and a squeak escaped you. As the hot salve of his tongue laved over the offense, you wound your other hand is his hair and give a playful tug. So he nipped at you again before sitting up on his knees, a possessive look fastened on his face. You followed leisurely, buttressed on your elbows, and Kylo’s hands grabbed at the supple rolls of your belly, working you aimlessly, admiring your helpless, trusting face, eyes sparkling with a loving compliance.

His lips lowered to your sternum and left a wet mess of kisses. His nose nuzzled unexpectedly into your side. You released a light laugh at the contact, and to your surprise, Kylo echoed you with a deep hiccuping chuckle that reverberated in his chest. The contrast of your fit was as night and dawn; His melody was low as the deep muted rumble of rushing waves, yours a gentle patter of water folding at low tide.

He relented, breathing in the musk of sex and sleep-spent sweat, and liberally showered the hills and valleys of your self with chaste pecks and swirls of his tongue.

Kylo’s worship plucked at the taught strings of your heart, and your song rang out, accompanied by the billow of wind ruffling the veils of the viewports, the susurrus of sheets shifting over you like the disruption of a rivers current, the whistle of Kylo’s mouth blowing cool air over wet reverence.

“So beautiful this way,” he muttered against you. “Pienso en ti siempre.”

A shaky sigh left your lips. “Divino.” He lifted his eyes to you and you urged him forward. Your lips met again and you smiled against him, pride swelling hot in your chest. You were his. Robbed of your sense of worthlessness. Robbed of your performative rituals. Instead filled by a powerful sense of purpose. To worship and to be ravished. You laid back down, arms going lax above your head as he loomed over you. Kissing lines over your jaw, your cheeks, consuming you, the perimeters of your self dissolving, and your beings melted together in exaltation and hunger.

And now. You tilt your head back to gargle before spitting tainted water. Warm palms brush over your shoulders as you rinse your face. You look up at his reflection, and admire how much he dwarfs you in size as you come to stand at your full height. His hands fall over your arms, one hand coming back up to caress your shoulder, thumb sweeping over the decorations of darkened splotches around your collarbones. His eyes follow your expression intently, watching your reaction to the acknowledgement of his ownership. You are cool, eyes suave, your pride glowing in the place of your third eye.

“Do you like my gift to you?”

You nod coyly.

His hand finds your chin and swivels it over your shoulder. “Muñeca.”

“Yes. I love it.”

He bows his head to plant a kiss at your crown.


End file.
